


Bygones are Bygones, but Never for Too Long

by DrownMeOut (DeimosEquinox)



Series: Cracking Open A Cold One With the Boys [2]
Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: (the boys are back in town), Also other bad choices, And they're stupider than ever, Back with the Crack, Bad Decisions, Hey they happen, I don't know what to tag because I have no plan for this, I'm Back ya'll, M/M, MM, anyway, bbq sauce, hell yeah, hot I know, stay tuned, surprise, the boys are back in town
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 11:39:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11012691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeimosEquinox/pseuds/DrownMeOut
Summary: Sly takes bad advice.





	Bygones are Bygones, but Never for Too Long

When I'm throwing up on Virus's fancy sheets, I can just hear his voice in my head, telling me how pricey they were and how I would have to pay him back for those. 

Yeah, right. 

I go into the bathroom, look at his toothbrush, and scrub my teeth with it. 

"Feel any better?" Trip asks. I sit next to him on the couch. 

"Peachy. Especially now that I get to cuddle with this big boy all I want." I pet Welter's head. Ren makes another power off noise like Windows™. 

J e a l o u s y. 

Koujaku sighs for probably the hundredth time tonight, sitting next to me before wiping my bangs away from my face. "Sly, you can't keep doing stupid things like this. They're bad for your system." 

"I'm here for a fun time, not a long time." 

"You could have cuddled with me or Ren anyway." 

"Why not all three of you?" 

"You didn't have to drink a bottle of barbecue sauce for two of us." 

"But Welter deserves my love too." I pet the lion's mane. 

"Sly. The wine mom sent me a text." Trip tells me. 

"Doubt." 

"I wish I was lying." 

"What did it say?" 

"He's coming home within the next week." 

"Fuck. I have to think of a way to make it up to him." 

"Make what up to him?" 

"So many questions." I pull Ren into my lap. "I puked on his sheets. Ren, Google ways for forgiveness." 

"On it." The allmate replies. 

"Couldn't you just... Wash them?" Trip asks. 

"Oh, Trip. Don't be basic." 

And that's how I decided I was going to bake cookies. 

My plan is foolproof. 

That night, I nestle between Koujaku and Welter, burying my face in the lion's mane. He smelled like a new car, but we're not going to talk about that. Trip probably took him to a car wash. 

I told him I wasn't serious, but we all know Trip. 

Ren smelled like Color Me Happy rose shampoo by Herbal Essences™, but we're not going to talk about that either. 

When I wake the next morning, Welter is gone and my nose is buried in Koujaku's collarbone. 

"Ren, what's the time?" I ask, trailing my fingertips down Koujaku's side. 

"Six thirty A.M." Ren rests a paw on the top of my head. 

"Thank God." I mutter, giving the hollow of my boyfriend's throat a butterfly kiss. He shifts, but doesn't wake, so I close my eyes with a silent yawn.  

Cookies are awful. 

Awful to make and the dough tastes like shit. Too much butter. Not enough chocolate. No icing. Who the fuck came up with this? 

"Trip!" I call, waving at the fire with my hands. 

"You caught the kitchen on fire, didn't you?" He asks from the living room. 

"Of course not." 

He snorts and doesn't move. I dump baking soda on the oven before starting over. 

It takes me twelve tries before I actually bake the cookies right. I even sent Trip out to get me ingredients. 

Twice. 

"Hey, Trip!" 

"What?" 

I pelt a burnt cookie at him, watching as it hits him in the face.

Bullseye. 

Trip picks up the cookie before chucking it right back at me. It hits my shoulder and I collapse with a sob. 

"I've been... Shot..." 

Our war goes on for a while. He deflects some of my cookies with a pillow while I launch burnt cookies at him like a machine gun. Or whatever the fuck kind of weapon launches things quickly. 

The door opens. 

Both of us freeze. 

No one dares to breathe. 

"What is going on in here?" Virus hisses. 

"...Welcome home?" I ask. 

Instead of, "welcome home" I evidently said, "welcome hoe." 

I don't think I've ever run so fast in my life. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading  
> I won't provide the bleach it will take to rid your eyes of my awful writing but I can give you 75 cents max


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